Private Universe
by gossamer moonglow
Summary: The road to personal healing and contentment is bumpy with many obstacles, most of which are created by one's self. Gibbs and McGee would be the first to agree. Gibbs/McGee pre-slash
1. Chapter 1

_"I want in fact more of you. In my mind I am dressing you with light; I am wrapping you up in blankets of complete acceptance and then I give myself to you. I long for you; I who usually long without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you."_

 **Franz Kafka** , _Letters To Milena_

 _2010_

Deep in worry for his absent agent, it took him some time to sense the eerily quietness in the office and Gibbs looked up from the spread files on his desk to see Tony and Ziva looking at each other. It was still early in the evening, earlier than his usual time of sending them home. Their progress on their case was less than admirable, the new tech girl wasn't McGee, and they were stuck in the middle of their evidence.

Tony noticed his Boss checking at them. "It was suicide, Boss. She fell in front of that car."

"Come on now, Tony, why would she kill herself?"

"She was assaulted, Ziva. Some people just can't deal with it." Gibbs would have hit DiNozzo, harder than usual, if he was closer to him, but his ankle hurt to get up just for that.

Ziva had no such shortcomings and in an instant she was looming over her colleague. "Look at her, Tony." She pointed at the plasma screen where they could see the photo of a young woman; dark haired, pale, big brown eyes. She had been beautiful in a way 1940s movie stars were. "She fought through everything in her life to become part of the navy. Yes, she was assaulted, but from the records, she had been called names all her life." She threw the files she had picked from Tony's desk on him. "Freezing, iceberg, broken, ice queen… that she needed a real man, again and again. Her whole life. And you think she committed suicide when she's been assaulted without fighting back? After all, she kicked their asses hard instead of being hurt herself."

Gibbs swallowed a pain pill for his aching leg, and stood. "So, what do we have, Ziva? Other than your intuition?'

"Do you also think she killed herself?" Her accusing stare would have been jarring but he was too tired to care.

"I don't think anything. I want proof and I was suspects. And right now we have neither. Was it suicide, was it an accident? Did someone push her? No witnesses. Not even the car driver has anything to say because she's in shock! So, why don't you both go home and come back with clear heads?" Their victim wouldn't go anywhere. It was too late for that.

Tony was already on his feet, pushing his dirty shirt in his backpack. "What about McGee, Boss? Will he be here tomorrow?"

"Probably, DiNozzo."

-NCIS-

By the time Gibbs arrived at Silver Springs, the pain on his leg was down to a slight annoyance.

His research proved fruitless since McGee's car was missing, so Gibbs assumed he had come home and then left. He had to find out where he had gone to.

The earlier drizzling was slowly turning into showering and Gibbs took his coat off to shake the water away before laying in the passenger's seat. He took his cell phone and called Tim for the third time since he had left NCIS.

His agent hadn't turned the phone off but he didn't answer it either. "Damn it, McGee, just answer the damn phone!" Driving faster than he should in this kind of weather he pulled in a stop in front of Tim's house. He and Tim had spent their summer in it in order to transform it from looking its 90 years into Tim's dream house. They had planned for the move to take place in the beginning of October but Tim's impromptu vacation had spoiled their plans. Tim wasn't there either. His car was missing and Gibbs knew no one had been here for the fortnight McGee was in Europe.

Back in his car Gibbs turned his cell phone in his hand and dialed a number. "Hey, Gabriel. I'm at your neighborhood. Is Tim there? He's not at his place. Places." He added as an afterthought.

"Jethro? No, Tim isn't here. Is he back from Rome?"

"He's back alright. He brought Paul home yesterday and left him in his parents' house and he was supposed to be here by now."

"And you can't find him."

"He's not answering his phone."

"Did you go home? He's probably waiting for you to go there." Gibbs wasn't going to question Gabriel's suggestion. It was the only plausible one left and cursed softly as he reminded himself he could use the agency's resources to find McGee earlier. Damn emotions were screwing with his thoughts.

When he pulled over in front of his own front yard, he saw Tim's car there. Killing off the engine, he breathed deeply, rubbing his fingers over his eyes before stepping out and running to his front door to avoid as much as it was possible to get wetter. Inside, he was enveloped by the usual darkness and chill of an empty house.

Tim's car might have been there, Tim's cell phone was settled innocently on Gibbs' table, but their owner was nowhere to be seen. After a quick detour around the house, Gibbs walked back outside to finally find McGee standing still in the middle of his back yard. Gibbs felt a weight in his shoulders being lifted the moment he set eyes on Tim. His face was raised upwards; he was dressed in a black shirt, drenched as the unforgiving rain pounded on him.

Not for the first time, Gibbs cursed his recent undercover op that had kept him away and unreachable when Tim needed him the most. As quickly as he could, trying not to startle his friend, Gibbs jogged to him. He reached out his hand to him. "Tim?" When he got no response he tried again, louder this time. "McGee?"

Tim turned around to face him, wrapping his arms around his himself, and Gibbs saw the pale face; dark circles underneath bloodshed eyes. Stepping right in front of the distraught man, he hugged him one armed and, grasping one of his hands with his own, he pulled the cold body to him. "Let's go inside." Gibbs could feel his chest ache at the desolation on the younger man's face. Tim let him lead him inside.

-NCIS-

Gibbs would have preferred to light the fireplace instead of turning the thermostat on, but he had no time for waste and didn't want to leave Tim alone. "Come on, let's get you dry." Leading him to the bathroom, he helped him unbutton his shirt before wrapping him in a dry robe. He took a towel to wipe his face.

Tim's voice startled him. "The fluorescent lamps in the bathrooms create an ethereal light when my eyes and lashes are wet. Does it ever happen to you, Boss? Seeing so clear but, like through a sheen of light?" He blinked at Gibbs, hiding the green of his eyes for a moment before he continued. "It happens while swimming too, but the water is not as clean and the sun's light is never as white as to create the same sensation."

Gibbs did in fact know the sensation. However, he was too concerned about Tim's mental state to give an answer just to appease him. "Would you like a shower, McGee? Warm water to bring your temperature back to normal?"

"Not really, Boss. But if you want, I'll have one."

Gibbs wasn't sure he could deal with such meekness from Tim. In all the years he had known the man, he had never seen him like this; and he had observed his best and worst moments. "Take off your clothes, Tim."

"It's your bathrobe, Gibbs, not mine." Despite the unnecessary reminder, Tim pulled it off alongside the rest of his clothes while Gibbs settled the water's temperature.

Gibbs wasn't certain if he should leave Tim alone to take the shower, but thoughts about time and place entered his mind before turning around to see him naked under the weather. Tim's eyes shone bright as he stared up at the light. "There it is again…" he whispered, just as Gibbs pulled the curtain to stop his gaze from going lower.  
Feeding Tim was his first priority. Coming close to him over the years had taught him the other's man eating problems. In times of worry, pain, or even happiness, Tim either ate too much or not at all. No middle ground. And Gibbs has almost nothing to give him for dinner.

Searching in his fridge for something edible his thoughts returned to the man in his bathroom. It's been such a long time since he had first seen Timothy McGee in Norfolk. Nothing had prepared him for emotions changing over the years. Back then, McGee used to look like an overgrown child dressed in his father's clothes, all round pouting. There was no one as far away from a sexually attractive man, in Gibbs' opinion, than Tim McGee in those early days. Except for the eyes. Those bright, green eyes that laughed, brooded, dreamed; their intelligent intensity in that still awfully youthful face had caught his attention long before anything else had.

Everything else came afterwards.

He briefly wondered if soup was delivered these days. He had never before wanted something light for dinner. That trained of thought was cut in the middle when he heard a crushing noise from the bathroom. He opened the door without knocking and found Tim looking at his naked feet. They were surrounded by shards of broken glass. With a quick glance Gibbs discovered it was the glass he kept his toothbrush in.

Tim looked up at him. "It fell. I tried to catch it, but I failed."

Gibbs thought that he was living the last hour in slow motion. Especially when he was around McGee. "Ok, give me your hand, Tim." Taking him by the hand he helped him avoid the broken glass and led him to his guestroom. "Did you cut yourself?"

A shake of the head was his only answer and Gibbs kneeled to see for himself. A scratch was bleeding but not enough to worry Gibbs. He brought a hand towel and put pressure on the wound for a while before standing up again. Tim sat on the bed, covered with only a towel. Gibbs knew Tim had a bag with clothes in his car but he wasn't going to get it with this weather. "Stay here; I'll bring you something to wear."

Gibbs grabbed his cell to call Gabriel, informing him Tim was with him and relatively well..  
 _"Take care of him. And make him come see me tomorrow."_

Gibbs had to agree with him, unless he wanted to share his home with his Master Sergeant as well as Tim.

-NCIS-

The numbness that had enveloped him as soon as he had parked in front of Gibbs' house had not left him yet. He was aware of his surrounding, of Gibbs' presence, of anything that needed to be said and be done, but he couldn't bring himself to care. When Gibbs returned with clothes, Tim stared at them.

"I can help you put them on."

"Ok." Why wasn't the other man giving up on him, Tim couldn't tell. He'd been a annoyance. He shouldn't have come here. He could dress up and go home. "Raise your arms for me, Tim." The t-shirt wasn't his own. The sweat pants weren't his own either. He kept listening to Gibbs' voice, gentle and soothing, so far away, but couldn't pay attention to what the other man was saying.

Gone, lost, dead.

Gibbs' cupping his face made him open his eyes. His Boss was standing right in front of him. His face inches apart from his. His eyes looked worried. That was his Boss wiping away his tears with his fingers from his cheeks. How humiliating.

-NCIS-

When Tim refused to eat anything, Gibbs helped him stretch out on the bed. "You'll sleep here tonight. Do you want anything to drink?"

Without waiting for an answer, he strode to the kitchen to bring Tim something alcoholic to drink. It might help with his sleep. If not, Gibbs planned to call Ducky.

Gibbs sat by Tim's side on the bed watching him drinking glass of wine after glass of wine. Soon, the younger man was sagging against him, sadness and tiredness catching up with his already weakened from the journey system. He seemed as if he hadn't slept for day and if Gibbs knew him at all, he could bet he hadn't.

So Gibbs was relieved when Tim's breathing became deeper. He permitted himself to rub his hand up and down on Tim's back, feel his warmth over the thin t-shirt.

Gibbs closed his eyes.

 _It was just his luck for Shannon's uncle to die his limited time home from deployment. He had only seen the man once –in his wedding day- but apparently he had been Shannon's favourite uncle. Every person of Shannon's close and extended family was there. Some of them were totally unknown to Gibbs; few of them, he actually liked._

It wasn't by far the first funeral to attend, nor had he liked Ron as much as his wife did, but all of the sudden, he felt his years and loss crushing down on him. Shannon talked to him about relatives coming from states the other side of the country, relatives even she didn't know. But her words became mooted when the close family arrived. The dead man's wife and children, looking lost, dressed in all black seemingly not knowing what was going around them. The whole thing might have been an annoyance for Gibbs, but these three people had lost an important part of their lives, and reminded him how fragile life was.

The moment they entered their home, Shannon pushed him against the wall crushing her mouth with his, claiming a very much needed kiss.

Was it sane? Had it been natural to turn her around and crush her against the wall, sharing her pain and lust?

Afterwards, they stood there breathing hard against each other, straightening their clothes, before taking her in his arms letting her cry her hurt on his shoulder with gentleness that lacked in their sexual encounter.

-NCIS-

Suddenly Tim pulled away from him; his face raised upwards staring in his eyes, and bringing him back to the present. He reached out and touched Gibbs' face. The earlier memory reminded him the strange feeling of wanted a life affirming experience in the face of loss and pain. He leaned closer to him, not really knowing what his intentions were, when Tim removed his hand and turned to the other side.

Gibbs surmised sex was not in the younger man's thoughts. But he started talking in a low, monotonous voice.

"She's gone, Boss. One minute they were there, with me and their child, and the next I was at a police station in Rome trying to find them." Tim took a shuddering breath. "I talked them into going out. I told them to go and have some fun and that I would take care of Paul. And I never saw her again. Not alive." Tim's breathing came in ragged gasps and Gibbs reached over to turn him around and pull him closer, the tears burning in his own eyes both for his friend and the people he had lost.

Tim looked back at him, too much at a loss to care about his lost composure. Hiccupping, he pushed himself to continue with his story. "It was my fault. If I hadn't been there they wouldn't have left Paul and they'd never been hit by a drunk driver. They'd have stayed home looking after their baby boy and be safe… and it was my fault, Boss."

The younger man fought against Gibbs trying to pull away from his comforting arms but Gibbs held him tighter until he stopped pushing him away. He wrapped both arms around the young man, settling him against his body.

Tim's tears wetted his shirt but what got to him the most were the words that came afterwards.

"My baby sister is dead, Gibbs."

A.N: _Italics_ mean flashbacks.


	2. Chapter 2 Information is shared

_Some notes I add in the start of the chapter to make things clearer in regards to the story:_

 _1\. In case it's not clear, Tim and Gibbs have a deeper friendship in this story that will be told via flashbacks._

 _2\. Unbeataed, so all mistakes are mine. And since English is not my first language you will forgive me. Right?_

 _3\. Italics are memories/flashbacks._

 **Chapter 2. Information is shared**

Gibbs didn't know if it was the verbal confession of his sister's death, or the alcohol he had made him drink earlier that led to Tim's sleeping, but he spent the night leaning against the headboard of his guestroom's bed holding his subordinate in his arms. Each time the other man seemed restless, he found himself talking him back into sleep. It was a surprise when he woke up before the sun came up that he had slept even a little. His muscles were on fire by sleeping half sitting with a heavy man draped over him.

But it could have been worse. Bumpy air flights, freezing draught ground, soggy bunks, not to mention his desk in the office were only a few of the places he had slept in the past. Taking care of Tim for one night could hardly be considered a hardship.

Getting up from under McGee proved to be a bit more difficult; Tim's fingers were gripping his shirt. Gibbs tried to disentangle them but Tim's hold became tighter. "Come on, Tim, let me get up." He whispered softly in his ear. The other man hands eased their grasp and he could get up. He ran his fingers through McGee's hair. "Good boy." Gibbs had noticed his agents instinctively follow his orders, Tim most of all.

He made a beeline to the kitchen before going in his bedroom to change. With a glance at Kelly and Shannon's photos he pulled out clean clothes from the closet. The rain had stopped but the shutters were moving harshly against the window because the strong wind. It was still dark outside.

By the time he had the coffee maker running, he heard McGee coming down the stairs.

"I'm sorry for last night, Gibbs," Tim said looking down at his feet. The younger man had worn one of his hoodies as he'd kept doing every night he slept at Gibbs'. "It's cold in here."

"Sit down, Tim. When was the last time you ate?"

"What did you gave me to drink last night? My head is clinking…"

Gibbs smiled at him. "Seriously, how are you today?"

"When I don't think about it, I'm OK. When something reminds me what has happened I can't breath." He shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Sarah…" he swallowed hard, looking down at his feet. Slowly he let his head rest on his knees as his voice was muffled by the material of his trousers. "Sarah was in Italy for years. Lately we didn't talk much, not even in skype. That's why I went to see her. I had missed her." He looked up and Gibbs remembered his own face in the mirror after being informed his wife and daughter's murders. Disbelief warring with pained acceptance.

"I brought Paul with me. I left him at my parent's house, but Sarah and Sergio have left a will that name's me the kid's guardian. Need to look after it." Gibbs pushed a cup of coffee in front of him. "Thanks, Gibbs."

"What are you planning to do with kid?"

Tim's eyes misted again at the question. "I just don't know. Sarah wanted me to have him if… if anything happened to her. But how, how can I, Gibbs?"

His Boss sat next to him. "You don't need to decide now."

"Well, I don't, but these things don't wait. It's my nephew. I am not married, what woman would like to raise another person's child? Certainly not the ones I have dated." Tim sounded bitter concentrating on his hand as his ran his fingers around the cup's edges.

Gibbs swallowed the rest of his coffee and got up. "I'm going for a shower." Passing next to Tim's chair. "We'll think of something." He said ruffling Tim's hair. It felt good to be able to do that since it has been a long time since the last time he had done it.

"Yeah, OK." Tim answered absentmindedly. 

-NCIS- 

"Are you coming to work today? DiNozzo and David are impatient to see you again." Gibbs asked him while climbing down the stairs.

"I have this day off, Boss. Vance knows and I can't deal with them now. Neither with Abby." A sip of the cold by now coffee had him splattering liquid on Gibbs' handmade mahogany table. "Sorry, Boss."

"I'd slap you but I still don't know when was the last time you've eaten, McGee. What are you going to do today then?"

"Don't know probably go move furniture at my new place."

"No. Call Gabriel, tell him you're alright. Then I have something for you to do." Gibbs gripped McGee's shoulder. "Come with me."

"I can walk on my own, Gibbs."

His Boss gave him a good look and tightened his hold. "You could fool me, McGee."

Gibbs smiled at Tim's bewildering look as he brought them to the basement. "See these tools?" He pointed out to the hammers, chisels, carving knives, block planes, many and different files, screwdrivers and other hand tools Tim was used to seeing Gibbs work with. "Well, do you?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"Yes, Gibbs, I can see them."

"Good." Gibbs pushed him down on a chair and sat down next to him. He pulled out paper and pencil from the drawer and settled them in front of McGee. "You'll do a project for me."

Tim was used to his Boss giving orders without him asking for it, but this time Gibbs only stared down at him. "What?"

"You'll sketch a plane and you and I will make a wooden one."

Tim laughed and the worry inside Gibbs eased at the sound of it. They could pull this through as well.

"You and I?"

"Well, mostly you but I'll be around to help. Got to go, McGee. Stay in touch."

When Tim was left along, he rubbed his eyes, getting rid of their dumpness. Gibbs had left him a list of chores to be done; shopping, bringing clothes, starting sketching. The pain his chest had not lessened yet, but having something to do would help with it. Spending the weekend with Gibbs would be his recovery time.

But, first, he had to go see Gabriel. 

-NCIS- 

"I really can't believe it was an accident."

"You cannot believe it, Tony, because you wanted to be a suicide. Bonnie S. Hight was a Navy Diver for 8 years. She performed seven salvage operation worldwide and provided security during Expeditionary Warfare missions. It was unthinkable to kill herself because some thugs attacked her and called her names, right Gibbs?"

"We have found no evidence it was something different than a car accident. So, case closed. Either way, it's a loss for the Navy. She was a brave, young woman."

"Right, Gibbs. So where's McGee."

Gibbs was expecting this moment to come since he walked in the building. He got up, grabbed his cup of coffee and gestured to follow him. "We need Ducky and Abby for this talk."

Ducky and Palmer met them at Abby's lab. "Jethro, couldn't you tell us.."

"No, couldn't Ducky. For one, I'm going to tell you what's going on, but no one," he stopped and pointed a finger first at Abby and then at Tony. "Not one of you will think of not following my orders. Are we clear?"

"What's going on, Boss?"

"Sarah McGee was killed when Tim went to visit her in Rone."

Shocked gasps, hands covering their mouth, and muffled crying were the sounds he heard.

"What happened, Jethro?"

"How's Timmy, Gibbs?"

"Where is McGee?"

Gibbs raised his hand to stop them. He first turned to Abby. "As well as you can expect. Meaning not well at all, but we are going there. He's at my place, Tony, Ziva, and no, you're not welcome to it. Not yet. She and Sergio went for a ride; get out having some fun after Tim volunteered to look after their son; a drunk driver hit their car. Tim stayed for the funeral; he brought Paul back home with him. He left him at his parents."

"He's blaming himself?"

"Yes, Abs, he does. But that's the least of it right now. He's mourning, but he still hasn't realised how much he's going to miss her. How much worse it will get until the ache lessens."

Suddenly he found himself with an Abby armful, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck as she cried in his shoulder.

"Poor girl. And poor boy. Her husband was Italian, was he not?"

"Yes, Duck."

"When can we come to see him, Boss?"

Gibbs had spent the day thinking the answer in that question. "Sunday night. Come at my place at Sunday evening."

"But Gibbs."

Abby's whining and soulful eyes weren't going to deter him in his decision. "He needs to settle down, be more at ease with himself and his pain before he sees you. And since he's coming back to work on Monday, you and he have to meet each other before than. I believe McGee would rather not become a spectacle in the Agency."

Tony nodded. "What happened to the drunk driver, Boss?" He asked as an afterthought.

"Got killed as well."

"But why can't we…?"

"No, Abs. No."

Everyone in the room grumbled but after seeing Gibbs wasn't going to change his mind, they reluctantly agreed.

Except for Ducky, who followed Gibbs in the garage. "I'm going to come over tomorrow to see how's Timothy." Before the other man object to it, Ducky raised his hand. "You know me, Jethro. I just want to make sure he's alright." 

-NCIS- 

Gabriel Roston stood to open his front door, ruffling his dog's fur that was trotting behind him. Tim stood outside, holding an umbrella in his clenched fingers. "Hey. Can I come in?" He asked.

"Yes, kid, come in.?" The moment he got inside he was grabbed in a tight embrace that didn't last long.. "Do you want me to turn off the music?" The only constant in Gabriel's home was the music playing in the background all hours of the day.

"No, let it playing. I like it."

"Sondheim."

"I know." Tim replied with a sad smile as he sat on the large sofa pushing the white cane to the other side. Tarf, Gabriel's dog sat by his feet.

Gabriel took his usual spot next to him. "Did anyone see you coming?"

"No, don't worry, I was being very careful."

"Good. I'd hate to relocate after making everything functional around here. How are you, Son?" He asked reaching out to take Tim's hand in his.

"I don't know, Uncle. Sarah's gone, and when I don't think about it, it's like everything is normal. Life hasn't changed outside of me. When my mind connects with reality is bad. Really bad. But it's not me. It's them. They're gone, they don't live and…" he tried to not cry. But it was a lost cause as Gabriel turned to wrap an arm around him. A few minutes passed, both men crying for their girl. "And then there's Paul. I need to do well with Paul. Sarah let him to me, not Mom, not Dad. How… how am I going to help him?"

Tim looked down at the wooden floor, clear from carpets or objects thrown haphazardly around.

"Paul will be better with you than your parents. See, every angel in heaven knows how much I love my sister, but she always let your father walk all over her. And you. Now, after Sarah's dead and your independency I think if you leave that child with him he will be even worse. If that's possible… and think, would your sister want her son to grow up with your Dad?"

"Even if he's his usual self, I wouldn't want that for any child much less Sarah's baby." Tim dragged his let socked feet on the no-wax floor.

"Oh, my Boy…" Gabriel pulled him in his arms again. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me." Tim glanced at his Uncle. By now he was a strange blend of the man Tim remember from his childhood, strong, level headed, playful, tender, and the man who had returned from Panama; a man almost broken who isolated himself when the world suffocated him. Those two were now mixed in one person who had held him together after Benedict's case.

He and Gibbs.

And now, with his sister's passing, it was these two men whom he turned to. He pulled his legs up on the frayed, damask, burgundy sofa. 

_After Benedict's case, Tim found himself sitting on the burgundy sofa, all lamps turned the other side. His Uncle's home was easy to live in. Despite him making it just to be easy to navigate in it, Tim felt in ease in it from the first time he stepped a foot in. His favourite part was the sofa, so warm and comfortable looking. Maybe it was the colour, that dark burgundy fitting perfectly with the dark cypress green of the two pillows he slept on that night._

 _Only to wake up to find bright, blue eyes staring at him._

Tim looked around him to the photos on the walls. "How's the school building going?"

Gabriel would have wanted to continue their earlier conversation over Paul, but Tim was just as stubborn as himself. Or Gibbs'. Which said a lot. "Hey look around you. I'm a good architect. The best there is. Almost as good as a singer, right?" He asked with a smile.

"No one sings better than you, Uncle."

"One day we should do a concert. You play the piano." He pointed at the piano under the window. . "You've been the best student…." He said remembering their lessons. "Sarah sucked. Really bad. Back to out concert. I sing. People will love us. You may get the money to buy another house too. For Paul. "

"Or you can always teach Paul to play the piano so you'll have a concert with him."

Gabriel looking at him straight at his eyes without the sunglasses was making Tim almost as anxious as Gibbs standing in his personal space. His once warm, brown eyes now seemed empty. Tim swallowed as another wave of pain for things lost along the way hit him. "I'll be too old by then, young man."

"You'll never be too old."

Gabriel squeezed Tim's forearm before standing up. Tim remembered how big he used to perceive his Uncle as a child. At six feet Gabriel was shorter than his Dad and thinner but his engaging personality made him look larger than life. The black button down he was wearing showed off his trim body and Tim patted Turf knowing the walks outside in any kind of weather had kept his Uncle healthy.

Gabriel's easy navigation around the burgundy armchair brought him next to the fireplace where the piano stood gloriously. It was settled underneath a large reproduction painting of Hieronymous Bosch's 'The Owl's Nest'.

He turned the cd player off and sat at the Steinway Heirloom. Tim leaned on the pillows and raised his head to stare the ceiling fan as Gabriel's tenor voice flooded the room accompanied by the Sondheim's piano tunes.

Tim's left soon after. "Come for dinner on Monday, if you can, kid. And bright the Gunny with you, OK?"

"How about you call him to make sure he comes?" Tim hugged his Uncle one more time before he closed the door behind him. It was still raining and looking around Tim thought his Uncle's rose bushes might need trimming soon. 

-NCIS- 

Tim's outing brought back enough food to keep both men going for the next week. Gibbs' fridge was as usual empty and not for the first time Tim wonder why his Boss wasted power keeping it plugged. It was such a waste of money. By the time he had finished, chicken, vegetables, beef were all shorted out in the refrigerator waiting to be cooked. And Tim knew from experience that Gibbs was good at it. Being a guest to Tim meant he had to prepare that night's dinner. Pastry and ingredients ready he let them in the fridge as well until it was time for Gibbs to get home.

Afterwards, it was time to change clothes and head in the basement to check what exactly Gibbs wanted him to do. Entering the quest room he remembered why exactly he was at Gibbs' house and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

" _It will get better_." He said out loud. He grabbed Gibbs' hoodie he had left on the chair earlier before going down into the basement.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

 **Gibbs' thoughts go in a whole different direction**

Gibbs took his shoes off as he closed the door behind him. His leg was aching less, but it still itched a bit and mostly annoyed him. Ducky had told him to not tire it too much but he had never been one to listen to others. He was certain he would find a warm house and a meal waiting for him as had been the norm the previous time McGee had stayed over. However, even though the house was indeed warm, there was nothing to even indicate there would be food to eat; no aromas from the kitchen, no warm oven, no casserole, nothing. He could only see a faint light coming from the basement.

McGee was bending over his desk and sketching. Gibbs smiled at his agent engrossed in his project. His smile widened when he saw him wearing his sweatshirt.

 _Gibbs was in a bad mood. His team had just closed a case that involved the death of a child dependant that hit home hard. The little girl was six years old and had been killed as revenge against her Father. Mike had sent him home the moment the case had cleared. "I don't want to have to restrain you, Probie." He had said._

 _Gibbs shut the door behind him and threw his jacket on a chair before running up the stairs to have a shower. His plans changed when he heard noise coming from his bedroom. He climbed the stairs faster._

 _"_ _Don't leave any bruising I won't know how to explain to my husband." He heard his wife saying._

 _When he was on top of the stairs, he could see from the bedroom's open door her naked form on some man's lap, grinding down, bouncing on him while moaning her pleasure. None of the bed's occupants noticed his presence until he banged the door behind him. He climbed down the stairs with the same haste he went up. He pulled his gun from the holster and locked it in a drawer, safe away from him._

 _He turned around to see h is wife run down the stairs wearing a plaid shirt of his. He guesses had his feeling run deeper he should be jealous, enraged, beating her lover into a pulp but he's only tired, and disgusted to see her wearing his clothes._

 _"_ _Jethro, please, listen to me."_

 _He raised his hand and with a finger in his lips he quietened her immediately. "I will go for a walk and when I come back I want neither of you in my house." He pointed at his shirt. "And take this with you or I'll burn it."_

 _"_ _Damn it, Jethro. I love you."_

 _"_ _You love me? How? Bouncing on his lap?" His finger indicating the room that used to be theirs a few hours ago._

 _"_ _You are never here. And when you are, you are lost in your work or the basement."_

 _His thoughts went to Shannon and the time she was alone while he was overseas in one dangerous situation after the other with a child to look after. He raised his hands shaking his head, trying to understand her reasoning. He leaned close to her to whisper in her ear, the scent of her nauseating after the day he had. "If you loved me, it wouldn't matter."_

 _He closed the door quietly behind him taking a deep breath._

-NCIS-

He remembered a time not long ago none of his shirts would fit the younger man.

It was nice to see Tim lost in something other than his pain.

But a man had to eat. "Hey, McGee!"

Tim winced as he turned around quickly, startled to see him there. Gibbs felt his own neck aching "Boss, what are you doing here so early?"

"Early? McGee, it's after 20.00."

"What? No, I've only been here for…" Tim checked his watch to see it was actually twenty past eight. "Damn… I thought it was earlier, Boss, didn't realise so much time had passed." He rose quickly and dashed to the kitchen. Gibbs remained in the basement and bent over to observe his sketching. They were little detailed sketches of full section, half section, revolved and removed sections but nothing to elaborate how they were going to build the airplane. Still Gibbs had hope they go there. McGee's laptop was a bit more helpful with the graphics it provided to him.

"Gibbs? How do you want your pizza? Anything more there than just bacon?"

Laughing, Gibbs went up to instruct McGee how to make his pizza. "No pine apple."

"How about banana?"

"Do I have bananas in the house?"

"No, would you like to have?"

"Damn, no McGee. What the hell?"

He came into the kitchen to find McGee coating the pastry with tomato juice and olive oil.

"Not for a meal, but nutella and banana pizza make a perfect dessert I'll have you know."

"Do I look like I'm five, McGee?"

"Why, do I?"

Gibbs bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. "Well, not five, more around fifteen I'd say…"

"Hush." Tim checked the temperature and put both pans in the oven. "They will be done in about thirty five minutes. Sorry, I lost track of time."

"That's alright."

"I found a great book describing the process of making a wood plane." Tim toweled his hands before looking at him. "Did you tell them?"

Gibbs didn't pretend he didn't understand the question. "Yes, Ducky wants to come and see you tomorrow and the others will come over on Sunday evening. OK with you?"

"Yeah it gives me some time to prepare. Gabriel wants us for dinner on Monday?"

"Oh good, circling around the area is the perfect way to spend an hour or two."

"I think we are the only adults he meets. I love his way of dealing with everything."

"He loves you too. You're the son he never had. And he always loved you. I just didn't know it was you he was talking about until I got that call."

 _Gibbs was planing the big wood slab being too angry to do anything smaller or more delicate like children's toys. When his cell phone rang he settled the_ _jointer plane gently on top of the oak wood before picking up his phone._

 _"_ _Yeah, Gibbs."_

 _"_ _Hello, Gunny." The voice on the other side was familiar, but it couldn't be right. The man had been dead for over a decade._

 _"_ _Who is speaking?"_

 _"_ _I'm not in liberty to say my name, but you've got it right."_

 _"_ _Gabriel…?"_

 _"_ _Shh Jethro. Yeah, it's me. I need to talk to you. Fifty-Seven Mount Pleasant Street_ _."_

 _"_ _Why now?"_

 _"_ _Remember my nephew, Jethro? The bright kid that I wanted to be my son?"_

 _"_ _Think so, yes." How could he forget? The master sergeant kept talking about that kid's intelligence and talents in every opportunity._

 _"_ _His name is Timothy McGee."_

 _Taking a deep breath. "So that's what you needed to come out of whatever hole you dug yourself into? I'll be there. Make sure there's coffee."_

"I'm scared what he would do if anything happened to you, Tim."

"In the old days, yes."

"Oh, even now. The fact he can't see doesn't mean he's any less scary than before."

"My Mom is still mourning for him." They were entering a delicate territory again and Gibbs didn't want to have this discussion before their dinner.

"Go have a shower. I'll take care of the pizzas."

McGee checked his watch again. "Ok, there's plenty of time until they are ready. No worry they'll be burnt by the time I finish."

"Hey, youngster. I managed to survive for fifty two years rather well."

"Ok, Boss."

-NCIS-

"I want to turn on the radio, but I won't." Tim broke the silence of the basement the next morning. They worked easily, comfortable together in Gibbs' basement. Tim kept on sketching while Gibbs did something he didn't explain to McGee and the younger man kept stealing glances at him to figure out what he was creating. So far, his attempts had been futile.

Pushing one side of the square he used on the wood in his left pocket, Gibbs stood to face McGee. He felt his back's bones return to their normal position. He neared his guest and waited for Tim to continue with his thoughts.

"I love listening to music in the background, soft and low, as I work. But now, I think it's bad. Somehow an insult to their memory. It's just that instinct works at time and begs to turn on the radio, or listen to an album. And then, I remember. It's a roller coaster of emotions. A Scottish shower, metaphorically speaking."

"Don't worry, McGee, Ducky will be here soon for a non so metaphorical shower."

"Am I a bad friend? For not wanting to see them sooner, I mean? I couldn't hold it, Boss. I wouldn't want a repeat of the other day. And, at least that was only you."

Gibbs cupped his neck from behind. "You've seen me at my worse, I've seen you at your worse, McGee. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I doubt I have seen you at your worse, but thank you." Tim stared at Gibbs, his expressive eyes widening at the tenderness he saw in Gibbs' face.

Ducky's voice interrupted anything he would like to add.

"Jethro, Timothy? Are you here?"

"In the basement, Ducky!" Gibbs yelled and drew away from the younger man.

Ducky came down the stairs quickly and grabbed Tim is a fierce hug. The young man looked at Gibbs from over Ducky's shoulder and returning the smile he saw at his face, he wrapped his arms around Ducky. "How are you, Timothy?"

"As I was saying to Gibbs, I'm not really certain, Ducky. It's hard, you know it's hard. It's always painful losing a person you love, and more if you don't expect it or if they are young enough to outlive you. In normal circumstance." Tim's gaze traveled from Ducky to Gibbs and back to monitor the latter's reaction to his words.

"I'm going to go make something to eat. Anything in particular you'd like, Duck?"

Without waiting for an answer he left them alone in the basement. Ducky shook his head in wonderment. "He always asks but never stays long enough to get an answer."

"I know. Good thing he never disappoints though."

"Well, yes. Are you ready to face the team tomorrow? Abby, Tony, most of all?"

"Yeah, Ducky. I didn't want it yesterday, but now it's good you're here." The hand on his shoulder squeezed him.

"I appreciate it, my Boy."

Gibbs stood on top of the stairs listening to his two friends talking. Reminiscing the moment Ducky interrupted, he thought if he had actually made a mistake in taking Tim's sexuality for granted all those years.

 _Gibbs was strutting through Abby's lab a couple of weeks after Ari was presented as a Mossad officer, where she and Kate were talking and giggling. Wanting the blood sample results from their murder scene, he was ready to interrupt them when he heard McGee's name._

 _"_ _So how good is McGee?" Kate was holding a cup of coffee in her hand and was looking straight at Abby waiting for an answer._

 _"_ _He's good, he's brilliant, he gets me…"_

 _"_ _In bed, Abs." Kate's question made Gibbs smile despite his best of efforts for the opposite. For a moment remembered a situation he had overheard Diane discussing their love life with her girlfriends. It would have been embarrassing if he hadn't been praised._

 _"_ _Yes, well, a bit inexperienced, I would say…" Abby's face was hidden behind her large caf-pow._

 _Kate laughed. "He's young, isn't he? You could, well, teach him?"_

 _"_ _Oh he's a very fine student indeed."_

 _Gibbs had heard more than he should have and was ready to interrupt them and bask in their embarrassment and then go harass McGee, but Abby continued with new and interesting piece of information. "I don't think he likes it."_

 _Both Gibbs and Kate's eyebrow rose at it, but only the latter replied. "What do you mean? Isn't he good at it?"_

 _"_ _Oh he's good." By now Gibbs was rubbing his forehead. "I enjoy it. I love it. However, he's too mechanical. I think he does it to please me, and trust me he does, not himself."_

 _Gibbs saw Kate leaning closer to Abby. "Do you think he's gay?"_

 _"_ _Ah no! No, he likes me. I think he's even in love with me."_

 _"_ _Then what?"_

 _Gibbs had heard enough. "Then what about my results, Abby?" He asked, strolling inside the lab._

 _"_ _Gibbs."_

He hadn't believed Kate then and for the years afterwards he remained faithful in his opinion. But had it been the truth?

-NCIS-

After Ducky's departure Tim brought his laptop on the living room and his typing was faster than usual. He gazed at Gibbs. "I don't have my type writer here but I want to write something. I may deleted later on, or keep it. But writing helps."

"OK, but how about my banana and nutella pizza?" Tim looked thoughtful for a moment. "What are you thinking?"

"If I bought any cream cheese yesterday."

-NCIS-

Tony was anxious about facing McGee. What does one say to his best friend in a situation like this? How does one offer comfort? DiNozzo's forte was the lighthearted comments; and even those hurt people at times. Tony knew it when he had taken his commentary a step too far, especially in regards to the younger agent, but it was by now a part of his personality to keep doing it until a hurtful comeback from his chosen victim.

However, this was neither the time nor the place for jocular comments. Tony had lost a couple of friends in the course of his life as a law officer, but nothing like losing a sibling, nothing like Tim losing Sarah.

Tony's hands tightened around the steering wheel. Abby, sitting next to him, was also uncharacteristically quiet. Ziva had declined his offer to come with them. She had said she would find them there.

"Well, how are we going to do it?" He asked Abby uncomfortably.

"Do what?"

"Comfort him."

Abby chewed her lower lip thinking. "Do whatever comes natural, Tony."

Which was exactly what Tony didn't want to do or shouldn't do.

As if they were synchronized Ducky, Ziva's and his car turned up at Gibbs' place at the same time. Parking behind Ducky, Tony came out of the car planning to ask Ducky's advice when Gibbs' front door opened to reveal its owner.

Tony watched Abby and Ziva pushing through all of them to find McGee standing behind Gibbs. Abby was the first to reach him and pulled him in a tight hug. Tony watched Tim's failed attempt to keep his composure. He watched him tightly wrap his own arms around Abby and then Ziva, who spoke to him so quietly no one except for Tim could listen to her.

Tim, eyes tired and puffy, looked at him over Ziva's head. Tears were burning Tony's eyes as he did what felt natural and hugged Tim. He might not know what to say to Tim, but the thought he hadn't been with his Probie in his sister's funeral, the thought Tim had gone through all those terrifying moments alone, were enough for Tony to cry on Tim's shoulder's shoulder just as much as the other man did on his.

Tony didn't notice what Jimmy said to Tim afterwards, he didn't see the latter disappear in the bathroom to calm himself down. He felt Gibbs' hand on his shoulder squeezing lightly, and he saw the proud look on the older man's face.

That was the moment Tony knew they would never leave Tim face this kind of pain alone again.


	4. Chapter 4

**4\. Gabriel tries to show Gibbs the right way.**

Monday morning came earlier than they thought possible.

Tim woke up feeling tired. He blamed his emotional break down the night before. And Abby. Definitely Abby. Abby, who had hugged him and didn't let him go until he pressed her to him and cried his sorrow in her arms. And then it was Ziva who spoke softly in his ear in a language he didn't recognize as she soothed him with gently spoken words. Tony, whom Tim tried to avoid with a handshake but failed as he was pulled in another tight embrace asnd Tony cried with him. Jimmy's awkward hug as if he was afraid he wasn't wanted in Tim's tight circle of friends but not caring for any embarrassment if he could offer comfort in any way possible.

Ducky and Gibbs let them comfort the grieving man until it got too much and Tim looked at them imploringly. By the time they managed to pull his over worried friends away from him Tim felt wrecked, with his head aching and memories flooding back threatening to overwhelm him.

After that, Ducky intervened to calm the spirits and the night progressed more peacefully.

-NCIS-

Tim came down the stairs slowly. Gibbs observed him silently from his place by the counter. Tim was dressed in a black shirt and slacks.

"Good morning, Boss."

"Hey, McGee. How are you today?"

Tim shrugged. "It's good to go back to work today. Something to keep me occupied. I will have a talk with my lawyer about Paul too. Is it still on about Gabriel tonight?"

"Yes, McGee. Your Uncle is going to kick both our asses if we cancel it."

Tim took a sip from his coffee and looked at Gibbs. "Thanks for having me here, Gibbs. It was good that I wasn't alone this weekend."

"Well, McGee, you're not going anywhere until you make that damn airplane, so I don't really know what you're talking about."

Gibbs didn't even look at him and Tim had known the man long enough to take the order as it was; an invitation to continue staying with him until their project was done.

They had no new cases which meant Tim had to be in the yard all day. All agents came to give him their condolences, the Director asked him to go to his office for a private conversation and when the time came Tim was more than happy to leave work and go home. He met with Gibbs in the parking garage, each man going to his own car.

"I'll see you there." Gibbs said to Tim.

Gibbs was the first to arrive to Gabriel's driveway. He encountered piles with leaves strolling down the long path. He could already see Tim coming to dispose them next weekend after trimming the hedge. Gabriel kept the house and himself well protected with a line of coral bark maple trees.

"You know, you don't avoid burglars with all those trees." Gibbs said to Gabriel as he wrapped his arm around the other man's shoulders. "And your beard needs shaving."

"It's not the burglars I want to avoid, Jethro, but bigger fish. And I like my beard thank you very much. I have more important things to do than trying to not cut myself." Gabriel replied ushering the other man in. "Where's Tim?"

"He took a different route. He'll be here shortly."

"Many things have happened to that child at the same time. I loved Sarah, but I never got to know her as much I do Tim. She's the lovely baby I left behind but has always remained a memory. I'm so sad for her loss, and her husband's, but my feelings for Timothy are different. He's the son I've never had. I can honestly say –and I feel so bad and guilty about it, Jethro- that I feel for his pain more."

"He's lucky to have you, Gabe."

"Come; let's make things ready to eat as soon as Tim gets here." Gibbs got down on his knees to pet Tarf who kept barking energetically from the moment Gibbs came inside.

"That dog likes you and Tim more than he likes me."

"Well, he's your guardian, we get to pet him and scratch him behind his ears." Gibbs demonstrated the act as he told the words. "Why did you want us to come?" He asked as he stood up again following Gabriel in the open-plan kitchen and dining room. He watched as Gabriel proficiently took the griddle from the oven, being protected by any burn with the rack guards and the ellbow-length, quilted flame retardant mitts he wore.

Gabriel settled the cutting board on the granite countertop and with a double spatula he took the lamb and cut it in pieces, all in the same size.

"I can't understand how you do this?"

"What?" Gabriel looked at the general direction of where Gibbs' voice came from. For Gibbs it seemed that the man was staring right through him.

"Cut all the slices the same size."

"Lot's and lot's of practise, Jethro. I didn't wake up one day with this talent."

"But that's exactly how you used to cut the meat… before." Gibbs bit his lip after saying the words loudly.

"Ah Jethro, is this a nice way to call me anal?"

"Well, yes. Methodical. What can I do to help? I can't sit here watching you doing all the hard work."

"Like the old days then?"

"Yes, only then it was you sitting watching us."

"Hush!" Like Uncle like nephew, Gibbs thought at the gentle chide while Gabriel kept talking. "I wonder and worry about Paul. I am sure Tim wants to have him and raise him just like Sarah and Sergio wanted…'

"I haven't talked to Tim about it, but how about the father's family? Didn't they want the child?"

"His parents are dead, and he's got a grandfather who is alive but not in any condition to raise a three year old child. That's what Tim told me when he called me after the funeral."

"Tim thinks it's implausible to look after the kid himself."

"He's got a point." Gabriel worked meticulously cutting the tomatoes for the salad. "He's an unmarried, federal agent. He works strange hours and days, he's got a demanding Boss; it is difficult even in theory."

"You are not helping, Gabe."

"He's not here. He's not listening to me, but all those thoughts have already crossed his mind. He may be the legal guardian of the kid, but he's not sure he can make it work."

"So you're saying he should leave Paul at his parents."

Gabriel's face of distaste was answer enough. "No, that's not what I mean. That's why I asked you to come over. I fully intent to offer my services."

"Now you sound like Ducky."

Gabriel never met Ducky, but he had heard enough tales about the medical examiner that he felt as if he'd known him. "Well, I want to tell Tim I can become the boy's nanny while he's at work. How about that?"

"Gabriel. How will you be able to do that?"

Gabriel's handle of the knife was nothing less but professional. "I am not talking about a temporal solution, Jethro. I am talking about having professional help but being the one in charge of Paul while Tim's at work."

"And you're going to tell him tonight? So why did you want me here?"

"Wouldn't you want to help as well?"

The words caused Gibbs to feel a need instead of want. He shook his head. "I'm too old for that, Gabriel."

"Yeah, right. You're young enough to run around shooting bad guys but too old to give a child a decent upbringing."

"Kids need stability."

"I get that." Gabrie turned his face up as if to look at him. "After all, this is a discussion about having a plan so Tim can raise the boy until he finds a nice girl to marry." Gibbs flinched and Gabriel smiled. "You know, if I only I could see now…"

Gibbs frowned and asked defensively. "What do you mean?" Following Gabriel's train of thought was proven to be impossible at times.

"Just because I can't see, it doesn't mean I can't feel, Jethro. I remember you with Shannon. Granted, I have been around when you were with Hollis, but it wasn't the same. Hollis is an amazing woman. So why didn't it work out? Both she and Shannon were strong women. However, you and Shannon were younger when you found each other. Thirty, thirty-five years ago the world was so different in regards to relationships. I remember Shannon's strength, her way of dealing with you and opposing to you when she disagreed with your opinion. But, I also remember her yielding in your protection and you to hers. They were different kinds of protections but you felt safe in giving in to her. You need to feel needed, to know that someone doesn't just want or love you, but needs you as well, and not in a clingy, jealous, childish way but…, you know. I won't say it's the right way of dealing with relationships and other people, but it's who you are. And Shannon knew it and knew that showing vulnerability in front of you wouldn't make you think less of her. You were still equals, but you were different. And today, that's not easy to be found, it has become political incorrect. Women don't want to want to feel protected. They can protect themselves well and men are threatened by it. That's why it didn't work with Hollis."

"Is there a point to this lecture, Gabriel?" Gibbs didn't even know why he kept listening to him talking, other than Gabriel's soothing voice was calming his nerves.

"Sure there is," Gabriel replied laughing.

"And…?"

"And you're an old boy, Jethro, quite intelligent too. You know what I'm talking about."

"Tim is, damn! I don't what Tim is or what he wants."

"Tim wants the same things you do. Someone to take care of and be taken care of, as well."

"You are talking nonsense, Professor."

"Am I, gunny? Between Tim, you and myself, Pall will be looked after just fine."

Gibbs's eyes narrowed. "Paul?"

"Yes, why? What did you think I was talking about?"

Gibbs knew when he was challenged and he was too tired of hiding so he took the challenge in a stride. "That you would trust Tim into my care."

"That too. But make no mistake. You'll be in grave danger if you ever hurt him."

"You, we make assumptions about Tim here when we don't know his feelings on the matter."

"If you don't know his feelings, then you're more blind than I am, Jethro."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Tim? Are you joking? That boy doesn't talk about things he thinks he can't achieve."

"Is he even gay?"

"No, are you?"

"Bisexual?"

"Not from what I know."

Gibbs pushed himself off the counter he had been leaning on. "What the hell, Gabriel? What are you playing at?'

"Tim wants a family, I know that. Everything else comes next. With Paul, and after losing Sarah, he can have a family."

"Why would he want a family with me?"

Instead of answering Gibbs, Gabriel obfuscated. "What time is it? He's late isn't he?" Gabriel's words were cut by the back door opening and Tim came in.

"McGee! What happened?"

"Tim? Why did you come in from the back door?"

"I was being followed." He said warily. He sat on the couch, arms tightly wrapped around himself. "Or I think I was followed. Not so sure right now."

"What's wrong, Tim?" Gabriel asked him.

Tim's eyes locked on Gibbs'. "I don't think it had anything to do with you, Uncle, despite my precaution to not come from the front door. I kept seeing a truck coming too close behind me. If they wanted to go unnoticed by me they weren't doing a good job so I thought nothing of it in the beginning." By now, Gibbs had sat next to him and Gabriel leaned on the piano.

"Then why do you think you were followed?"

"After you left me, Boss, I got a call by Inspector Lorenzi. I met him after Sarah's… death. He told me they had new information about the truck driver. Apparently his ID was fake. His name was John Zeller Jr. and he was actually wanted by the Interpol to be exported in the USA. Lorenzi said he'll send me the details." He didn't wait for the question that was to come. "He was wanted for assassinations." Tim said sighing and rubbing his forehead. He could feel the early stages of a headache. He hadn't eaten since breakfast and he didn't feel like eating any longer.

Gabriel dropped to his knees in front of Tim. He reached out his hands to wrap them around Tim's forearms "We'll figure it out. Sarah and Sergio will find their peace."

Tim felt Gibbs' hand squeezing his in a silent agreement to his Uncle's words. He stared over Gabriel's shoulder at the small pieta figurine on the coffee table.

-NCIS-

Gabriel insisted Tim should stay in his home that night, after making him eat dinner. He didn't discuss his plans about Paul with his nephew figuring it wasn't the right time. Gibbs was undecided over staying as well or going home. He didn't want to leave the two men alone. Gabriel made it easy to make a decision.

"Are you staying as well, Jethro? Come on, I'll show you were you can spend the night." He said when Tim went for a shower. Gibbs reached out and gripping Gabriel's arm he pulled him back.

"I won't stay and neither will Tim."

"What? No!"

"Listen to me, Gabriel. We need to keep your place secret both for you but…" Gibbs looked over at the bathroom. "But also in case we need it in the future."

"You think someone's after Tim."

"What do you think?"

"Listen to me Jethro." He leaned close to Gibbs, his voice low. "I have been hiding for almost two decades, I lost the chance to see Tim and his sister growing up, I lost any chance to have a family of my own. My family is that boy in there." He pointed at the bathroom door. "Damn right I think someone's out to get him. What I need to know is why. And I trust you do learn it. And protect him."

"He's not a child to be protected, Gabriel."

"Is that what we talked about, Jethro? Sarah's dead. Remember that. Now, he needs you."

"Damn it, Gabriel. I'll help him. If Sarah was murdered we'll catch whoever did it. What else do you want me to do?"

"Nothing! You said you wanted to take Tim home."

"He's not a thing. He can go wherever he wants to." They both kept their voices down, not wanting to be heard by the man their discussion was about. "Gabriel, what if he needs to stay here for a while?" He raised one eyebrow forgetting the man in front of his cannot see him. Not any more.

Gabriel sighed and turned around. "I'll go prepare your dinner to take it home with you." He moved elegantly around the furniture and by the time Tim came out of the shower, looking no better than before he had everything ready.

"Tim, Gibbs wants you to go with him at his place."

Tim looked at them. "Ten minutes ago you wanted nothing more than to stay here. Well, never mind. I agree actually. We should go at Gibbs' so we can go to work earlier tomorrow. I'll get ready."

When they were once again alone together, Gibbs gripped Gabriel's forearm. "Don't worry. He'll be safe with me."

"Just don't do anything stupid. Not tonight."

Gibbs knew instantly what his friend meant. He sighed trying to be calm. "I can keep my hands to myself. I'm not a teenager."

"I count on it."


End file.
